Page 145 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

It amazes me that the man who can kiss me so tenderly is the same man who can slaughter another human being without so much as blinking.

“What man?” I whisper.

“They call him the Butcher.”

“Sounds like a fun guy.”

It’s a joke, but it’s a pathetic one. Neither of us laugh.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat, “what happens once you kill this Butcher?”

Dima’s eyes harden. “Then my brother lends me an army. And I go take back what’s mine.”

Again, I shiver despite the heat radiating from Dima. “So it’s war then,” I say in the tiniest voice. “You want to kill someone so you can start a war.”

He clenches his jaw. “You think I asked for this shit? You think I want it?”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“I didn’t ask for any of it, Arya. But I won’t shy away from it. This comes with the territory. I have an empire. I have a kingdom. And jealous men will always want part of that. They’ll come at me with everything they have so they can take everything I’ve built. And I’ll slaughter them all every time.”

My own eyes prick with tears. “But what about your son, Dima? What kind of life does that give him?”

He leaps out of bed and rises to his full height. Looming. Devastating. Powerful.

“It gives him the life he fucking deserves. I left him with you to try and live a normal life, and look what happened! He got fucking stolen from you. So now, we’re doing things my way. I am going to get him back. I’m going to make those motherfuckers pay for laying a single finger on his head. And then the rest of them will pay, too. Everyone will pay. Everyone will bleed. Everyone will remember that I am Dima fucking Romanoff, and whatever I say goes. Including you, Arya. Especially you.”

I don’t know whether to cry or scream. The man in front of me is unrecognizable.

Gone is the strong protector with the sarcastic sense of humor. Gone is the man who made me beg for more of him.Harder. Touch me. Make me come.

Now, he looks like a monster in the night.

“Do you even hear yourself?” I ask quietly.

“I know exactly what I said,” he snaps back.

I draw a slow, shuddering breath. “I’ll ask you one more time. I just want to hear you say no for real. Please, I’m begging you… come with me to get our son, Dima. And then turn your back on all the violence and come find a happily-ever-after with us. Will you do that?”

Dima looks down at me from where he’s towering above. His blue eyes are miles deep and sub-zero. I shiver yet again, the coldest one yet. It feels like it comes from the soul.

Dima’s lips move. He says one word.

“No.”

And then he’s gone. He stalks out the door and slams it behind him. The whole cabin rattles.

Left alone in the bed, I do the only thing I can do. I cry for the future I hoped I’d earned.

And I cry for the past I cannot escape.

51

Arya

I dream.

I dream a lot of dreams. So many that I can hardly tell where one ends and the next begins.

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